


closing walls and ticking clocks

by tonberrys



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: First War with Voldemort, M/M, Marauders' Era, POV Bartemius Crouch Jr., POV Third Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-30
Updated: 2018-08-30
Packaged: 2019-07-04 13:54:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15842664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tonberrys/pseuds/tonberrys
Summary: Under the cloak of darkness, Barty and Regulus share a quiet moment on a sleepless night.





	closing walls and ticking clocks

**Author's Note:**

> This was written as a gift fic for Cheeky Slytherin Lass at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry (Challenges & Assignments) on ffnet. Her prompts were "Barty/Regulus" and "sleepless nights."

Barty’s mind buzzed with silence and the press of darkness. The dungeons were cold that night, and not even a round of warming spells could completely fend off the trickling chill of thick winter snows, piling up around the castle above them. Restless, he stared at the ceiling above, his limbs itching to move and mind ever-reeling—thinking, feeling, seeing, smelling, knowing—with a rush that couldn’t slow down. Perhaps he had been lying awake for an hour. Perhaps he had been lying for longer, but once the lights had flickered out, Barty had begun turning over his studies in his head, following essay arguments along different paths of interest and running through his memorisation pieces. N.E.W.T.s were a looming cloud that would soon take form, and with those examinations came the seemingly impossible task of pleasing his father. The man was dead to him, whatever front he might plaster on his face, yet those sharp, critical eyes still burned fiercely, like ice held firm to the skin.

Fantasy wove loosely through his thoughts, lifting his spirits and refocusing his drive. The future held a promise that his father could never deliver. Recognition, freedom, control—a world that felt _real_. A connection that felt real. It was a grand world that awaited their kind when the Dark Lord at last rose to power—and within the tiny world of their dorm room, he was drawn, consistently, to a familiar silhouette in the dark. 

An arm and a half separated his bed from Regulus, close enough that he could picture his friend’s arm outstretched far enough for Barty to grasp it. Tingling on his arm was the ghost of an anchor—a mirrored mark, tying them together. His fingertips fluttered with the imagined tug of another human being holding him down, tangling up and keeping him from rising through the ceiling, out of a window and into the night sky. A grand world did not just await the wizarding world as an entity. A grand world awaited them, personally.

Darkness shrouded the finer details, but he could see that Regulus’s shoulders were stiff and still. When his friend was asleep, they would shift, slow and steady to the beat of his sleep-breathing, but Regulus never seemed to relax until he was unconscious, and even within the shadows, Barty could tell he was far from relaxed. Ever since they had returned from the winter holiday, something had been amiss, hanging over his friend as it tugged him in and out of focus. Just months away from their freedom, Regulus seemed to be shrinking further and further inward. 

Raking his eyes across the room, Barty could see that the others were fast asleep by now—useless lumps, the three of them, but it was better that they were.

“Regulus,” he whispered, and to his delight, Regulus rolled to face him right away. For a few pattering heartbeats, Barty held his friend’s eyes with his own. Only when Regulus lifted his eyebrows did Barty’s mind jar back into place. Slipping a hand out from beneath his blanket, he gestured for Regulus to come over.

A shift of hesitation—a glance to their sleeping roommates—then Regulus slipped out of his own bed to crawl in next to Barty. He spared a second glance back, once he was under the thick blanket, and that surreptitious peek made Barty’s heart skip a little.

From where it was slotted vertically into his bed frame—transfigured years ago, for greater night-magic convenience—Barty pulled out his wand and cast a whispered spell, rearranging his friend’s bed to look occupied and bunching the pillow just so. He could feel Regulus shift under the blanket, tentative as he settled, but it was not the first visit, nor did Barty expect it would be the last. Out there in the world, expectation wrapped tightly around them both, but here, they could breathe.

Barty hooked a hand on his friend’s shoulder and nudged him to duck down beneath the covers, feeling the creep of a shiver that might not have been entirely due to the winter air. Regulus had parted his lips to say something, but the comment seemed to die away as the blanket pulled over them both. With a final flick, Barty cast a _Mufflatio_ charm around the bed—not the ideal mask on a quiet night, certainly, but it was better than the words themselves being overheard. These days, most of their conversations of consequence were better left unheard.

“What’s bothering you?” Barty asked after slotting his wand once again.

“Nothing. I was just...thinking.”

Barty’s mouth flicked. “I find that answer vague and unconvincing,” he said, staring at Regulus’s downcast eyelids, the lashes blending with shadows.

Those eyes lifted with something stubborn behind them. “I will grant you vague, but you cannot deny the volume of thinking.” 

“It is not your thinking that I doubt,” Barty said, hand resting on Regulus’s side, “but rather the suggestion that nothing is bothering you.” For a moment, the stare held, then Regulus exhaled a heavy sigh, seeming to melt into the mattress.

“It’s… Sometimes I think that Bella would rather just mentor you instead of us both, blood or not. I was terrible at two out of the...three.” (Unforgivables, Barty knew, though Regulus never seemed to trust even the muffling charms. Barty could admit that was wise.) Shaking his head, Regulus paused for only a breath before adding, “I just… feel like a disappointment.” 

“You aren’t a disappointment,” Barty responded sincerely, and though a part of him felt proud that his own potential might be recognised by the Dark Lord if Bellatrix Lestrange were to draw attention to it, he could not fully bask in that possibility, knowing that his companion in all of this was stumbling. Regulus was capable—the fire was there—he just lacked confidence… “There isn’t a part of you that is disappointing. Your strengths are just different from hers—and a little bit from mine. That’s why we fit. Balance.”

For a moment, Regulus fell silent. Slowly, Barty slid his fingers into Regulus’s sleeve, bunching up the material at his elbow. Stark against the pale white skin was Regulus’s Dark Mark, lined in an angry red, and Barty thought it was beautiful. Not as beautiful as the way his friend's face lit up when he smiled a genuine smile, nor as beautiful as the smooth feel of his skin, but it was high on the list. With a sudden rush of impulse, Barty thumbed along the twisted serpent and pressed his lips to the mark. A soft, sharp breath reached his ears, and it was a lovely sound.

Fitting his thigh between Regulus’s legs, Barty shifted up so their faces were even again. He could see his friend’s face was flushed now, arm hovering in place with awkward uncertainty. Barty’s chest thundered with the possibility that their idiot roommates could still choose tonight to stir, and his own cheeks burned from the closeness, but they were locked in place with fusing limbs, and all that existed was the warmth under the blanket.

“We're doing something important, Regulus. Truly, genuinely important,” Barty added earnestly.

“I know,” Regulus said quietly in return.

Barty wanted to kiss him, then—wanted to drag his fingers through silk-black hair until Regulus stopped thinking about their training sessions with Bellatrix, wanted to press against his skin until their heartbeats were indistinguishable—but Regulus was skittish beneath his fingertips. Regulus Arcturus Black, heir to his ancient house; Regulus, who looked, in private moments, like he might buckle under it, if not for the steel in his eyes.

“I just keep thinking about it. My mind won’t slow down enough to sleep,” Regulus continued, lifting those steel eyes again to meet the blue of Barty’s own. 

‘It’ could be any number of things they had done over the winter holiday, or the end of the summer holiday previous, but it almost didn’t matter which ordeal was responsible for the disruption. What mattered was the chaos, a cluttered clash that broke through that serene and mild mask.

“Mine won't either,” Barty admitted. 

“Does it ever?” A teasing spark flashed in Regulus's eyes, then, and a thousand tiny birds beat against Barty’s chest. “I'm not convinced you've slept a full night since fourth year.”

“I have more important things to do.”

“Were you studying?” Regulus asked with a little shift, as if trying to identity a nearby textbook.

There wasn't one—at least not tonight. “I was reviewing in my head,” he replied, though it was only a partial truth.

“You ought to rest more,” Regulus said, tucking his arm beneath his head like a pillow. 

It was an endearing sentiment, though Barty knew that Regulus knew he wouldn’t heed the advice. Perhaps in some respect, it was even more endearing that he continued to say it anyway. 

“Those seven Os won’t earn themselves,” Barty settled, “I’m not _that_ much of a genius.” In a sudden rush, anxious jitters vibrated down to the tips of his fingers again, a suffocating weight smashing against his chest. There was no option but to succeed—to surpass—to crush all expectations like rotting decay between his fingers-

“You are remarkable,” Regulus responded with the sort of quiet earnestness that made Barty’s heart thud against that heavy weight on his chest. “Your N.E.W.T.s will just put it on record.”

Of its own accord, Barty’s hand snaked up to the crook of Regulus's neck, and immediately, the N.E.W.T. nerves calmed in his fingers, leaving behind a very different, zapping tingle. With a nudge forward, Barty buried his face in the curve, and when Regulus shifted against his thigh with a soft sound, Barty could not help the smile spreading against his skin. For a moment, Barty paused—waited-

-Until he felt fingers tangling in his hair, a silent welcome. The fire roared anew deep in his gut, and like a crackling inferno, it burned up the horrific anxieties of their looming exams, at least for a little while.

“ _We_ are remarkable,” Barty murmured against the soft spot behind his earlobe. When he shifted to flick his eyes up to check his friend’s expression, he saw the glow of something warm and inviting in place of those traces of sullen guilt.

“We are,” Regulus responded, his gaze a little keener, more determined. Perfect.

Firmly, their foreheads pressed together, and Barty imagined a life with the Dark Lord at its helm—a life of recognition—a life that held no concern with what his father thought. 

Something of his own.  
Someone of his own.

Until that day, Barty would count the sleepless nights.

**Author's Note:**

>  **Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry (Challenges & Assignments)** Prompts:
> 
> Insane House Challenge \- 452. Surreptitious  
> 365 Day Challenge \- 93. (dialogue) “I find that answer vague and unconvincing”  
> Holmes Mystery Challenge \- (action) Sleeping  
> Writing Club, Disney Challenge, Characters, Bert \- 2. Write about two people who have been friends for a long time.  
> Writing Club, Book Club, Handmaid’s Tale, The Commander \- (word) Companion, (dialogue) "I only wanted to make things better.", (colour) Black  
> Writing Club, Amber’s Attic, Tattoos, Loved One’s Name \- 2. Write about someone important to your main character.  
> Writing Club, Lyric Alley, This is Me \- 8. I know that there’s a place for us  
> Writing Club, Ami’s Audio Admirations, On Air \- 14. Use the prompt set: (colour) red, (setting) at night, (word) glow  
> Writing Club, Em’s Emporium, Sophy (The Crownless Queen) \- 3. Write a marauder era fic  
> Writing Club, Lo’s Lowdown, Character Based Prompts, Spencer Reid \- 5. (word) Genius.  
> Writing Club, Bex’s Bazaar, Dumbo, Timothy Q. Mouse \- 3. Write about a supportive friend.  
> Summer Seasonal Challenges, Days of the Year, National Kissing Day \- Write about someone being kissed  
> Summer Seasonal Challenges, Fire Element, Fire Prompts \- (word) Inferno  
> Summer Seasonal Challenges, Shay’s Musical Challenge, RENT \- Write about a slash couple  
> Summer Seasonal Challenges, Gryffindor Themes Prompts \- (trait) Passionate  
> Summer Seasonal Challenges, Summer Astronomy Prompts, Partial Solar Eclipse \- Set your story in complete darkness
> 
> Title is pulled from “Clocks” by Coldplay.


End file.
